Five happy facts about Denmark

Danes are the most laid back of Scandinavians and the happiest people in the world. There are quite a few reasons that keeps them hale and hearty throughout the year, although it snows for most days of the year, which maybe a turn-off for many like us. Their high spirits can be attributed to the fact that they are thankful for the simple pleasures of life and have a good social support system. These are five of the many happy facts about the joyous Danes.

1) Danes are very passionate about protecting the environment and keeping their surroundings clean, which is why they love to cycle. This is like killing two birds with one stone. Cycling keeps them fit and at the same time keeps vehicular pollution in check. It's doesn't embarrass the citizens at all and you''ll find most of them cycling their way to work or school. In Copenhagen alone, 50% people commute by bike everyday and there are more bikes than inhabitants in the city. The other side of the story is that public transport is very expensive, and bikes are the cheapest modes of transport.

Perhaps we can take a cue from them and adopt these measures to battle our pollution woes, especially in large cities like Delhi and Mumbai. Denmark plans to become carbon neutral by 2025 and is working towards it.

2)Danes are disciplined people. They believe in following rules, especially traffic rules and make sure that they do not jaywalk even when no cars or bikes are plying on the roads. One of these days as I imagine our beloved Indians crossing heavily congested roads by ignoring traffic signals or safety rules for pedestrians, I think we can look upto them when it comes to pedestrian safety.

Apology

To the man trespassing her body in a hive of huddled humans
buses, metros or the local trains, where female body is a mosquito
that can be trampled by mustached machismo
to the guy in the lab who walked on her, with an unapologetic wince
walking into her way is his right, he thinks
to the teacher who doesn't bother to listen to her questions
mathematics is an equation, hers was never right
the science of home making they say is her call
to the salesman at the mall, because the dress doesn't sit on her
her tiny frame gives rush if hormones
to the brash neighbours who harass her with impunity
her lonely wars fall on their deaf ears
to the boss who thinks a promotion is not her cup of tea
making tea is what he thinks she's good for
to the mother-in-law who considers her opinion as bad manners
and her sneeze an ugly omen
to the husband who thinks she isn't allowed to fall ill.

Everyday a woman says sorry and chews her words
like her favourite bar of chocolate
or sweetens them with apologies, for secrets that wane inside her bones
for it is not lady-like to raise a voice or use her brain
while she carefully cuts the tags from her new clothes
she thinks of the labels women wear everyday,
for daring to open their mouth, or asking questions
or claiming for a raise at work
while for some like her, apology tags along
for being the pale shadow of a man.

Death

Death is the beggar
pleading to you for mercy
found at the street corner
embalmed in stink
staring helplessly at
his begging bowl.

Death is the master
punishing you for your sins
striking with a million lashes
for mortal cowardice.

Death is the latest suitor
who has bought your sanity
for a million unanswered questions
whose absence strikes like lightening
and melts in the babel of birds
singing an elegy, dumping you
to perish in the litter of leaves.

Death is the black box
gilded in gold
cut to carry your bones
the most comfortable home
that doesn't deny
for the riches you don't possess.

Death is the iceberg
the tip of which we all
will touch one day
to perish, and resurrect
under a golden sun
shedding our shrouds
the last skin we'll wear
as our loved ones pluck the
'forget-me-nots' rooted
around our grave.

Death is the only promise
life ever gave, naked we came
bare-footed will we go
with clenched fists
that opened at our birth.

Learning English

English is a funny language
grammar not playing to advantage
some words have silent sounds
as the confusion pounds
stacking up like layers of cabbage.

Wrist and write chew on first word
these funny rules do seem weird
a set of tooth are teeth
many booths are never beeth
funnily if logic was spared.

While sweetbread is a piece of meat
and sweetmeat is a sweet one can eat
noses run and feet smell
laws made are hard to tell
Which is why English is no mean feat.

Meeting a stranger for an Arranged Marriage date

I’ve felt like an anorexic model
reed thin, yellow, listless

while sashaying down the restaurant floor
Restaurant is their favourite place. 
They may meet you in these places
restaurants, book stores, malls or coffee shops
wrapped in crisp, neatly ironed clothing
buttoned up, their protruding Adam’s apple peeping out
most remind me of young boys dancing
their way to school. 
Others look like businessmen
waiting to seal a deal with a signature.
Some look like rag pickers
who hate to bathe or clean, stinking like 
piles of garbage piling
in the corner of your colony
attracting diseases.

They appear confident
when they hit on a conversation
gulping down glasses of water
Their eyes fixated on the legs of the chair
you are propped on like a kitten, coiling in her fur.
They sell their degrees
and blow trumpets about the money they bring home
flexing their muscles.
While they mouth sweet nothings to you, 
Their eyes twinkle like a love struck teenager.
Inside their dirty heads muddled with selfish misgivings
they will be giving you points, on a scale of one to ten
You will be judged on the light that your face can emit,
to the stupid talk that barfs from your mouth, 
being thrashed for intelligent opinions you may dare to have. 

Some may want you to be a donkey, carrying your own burden 
and that of theirs. Some may think of you as baby makers,
considering your body as a machine that plops out babies 
when their semen gets lost in your womb, much like your mind.
Some may want you to be a guinea pig
with whom they can practice the various “Kama sutra” poses
or may think of you as an ATM machine
your money will buy their happiness.
It’s a million dollar industry, this arranged marriage market
where daughters every year are trained to be mute mannequins
or trophy wives that men can show around to a society
that loves to poke its nose in other’s business
blinded by the big fat log in their eye.

The Art of Healing your Soul

This post begins with a confession. I must admit that I was a scared cat for a good part of my life. You can comfortably call me an introvert. Introverts can't mix with human life and yes I am one of those people who worry about putting off others and press the panic button at anything that my mind may not able to come to terms with. We introverts wear colored masks to hide the frown lines that the world and the drama it creates, puts on us. For a long time, I struggled at choosing those masks and painting them with my favourite hues of emotions. With the passage of time, I am learning the trick.
An article sent by the bestie on the three different kinds of people in the world based on their negative feelings shook me up. This thought provoking article on Mental Floss  talks about three different kinds of personalities. If you happen to read it, you may get a fair idea about the kind of personality you are. I tried to wear one of those personality types, and failed to strictly put myself into any of the kinds that the author has mentioned of. For me the journey has been from a sense of nothingness to weary boredom and finally at this stage in life, I have given up on the world and can't fit myself into the shoes it has offered.
This discouragement led to anger, hopelessness and fear. I wasn't aware of those moments when I was becoming an epidemic of negativity. 
In 2013, I took to practicing spirituality. My mom was startled when one fine day, I declared that I was attending the Sunday mass. For someone who had seen the altar of the church as a young girl, this was one giant leap towards a different kind of life, one that she had never perceived to live. After endless rounds of confession and spiritual cleansing, I took a few decisions. One of the most important of those resolutions was to deactivate my Facebook profile and stay away from twitter. I think one can freeze the former while I didn't know how I was supposed to delete the latter. Perhaps, it was one of the best decisions I ever took for myself. Yes, if you have been hunting to find peace and have failed till this day, then trust me this is the first door that you  need to open, to be in harmony with yourself. I had scuttled away from social media during lent and by the time I returned, fifty days later, I was many kilos lighter and detached from the dramas that had taken a toll on me. If TV is the culprit for you, especially the depressing news channels, then try and cut that clutter from your life for sometime. Trust me, you'll thank me for having given you the advice.
A few months later, I also cleaned up my friend list, unfriending people who were there on my list because we had 125 mutual friends. We never bothered to speak and since it was scary to start a conversation with a stranger I chose to set them free. On the other hand, a few other people decided to set me free and that evened the equation.
The social media is keeping us informed and raising important issues but at the same time, it is accumulating pessimism inside us when we read about them everyday. Also, it puts us at par with people who talk about their personal lives or goals. We start measuring our materialistic and emotional happiness with their yardstick and that is the point from where we fall, and hurt ourselves. 
Remember not all fingers are of the same length, and yes research like this says that Facebook can magnify narcissism and anxiety.

                                                 Picture credit: christianpost.com

30th January 2016

Yesterday night was special. After spending an extended weekend in Delhi, I headed back to Bombay. The paradigm shift from winters to a pleasant climate is a kick in the gut. I usually prefer the Delhi-Bombay Rajdhani as it saves me the extra miles from the Mumbai airport, but this time I was in hurry so chose the latter option.
After reaching home I curled up in the annals of my comfortable bedroom, still reeling under the winter chill that had been coughed into my lungs by Delhi.
A little later in the early evening I received a phone call from my best friend. She was in Bombay and wanted to catch up with me. Unlike in Delhi where we scoot inside our homes after eight pm, in Bombay it's a different story. The people of Bombay are not bothered about others and their lives, as all of them are hurrying to reach their destinations, since travelling is an arduous activity. Perhaps because of this reason Bombay is brimming with human life even at night.
For Delhites though,  conforming to the idea of travelling at night is difficult. Even then over the years, I have punched fear right on its face and journeyed across the length and breadth of the city. 
I remember those days when I had landed in Bombay, and navigation had bogged me down. I couldn't ascertain routes or plan an outing, and had to rely on the autorickshaws and kali-peeli taxi. In Delhi, where every nook and cranny of the city is connected by metro, moving around isn't a big deal anymore.While in Bombay you need to have extra starch in your backbone to hop onto the local which drives the city. For a person who had recently landed in the city, the probability was a big no. I chose the next best option, the rickshaws and taxis, since learning routes took some time. Infact memorizing the names of places took me about two months until I could wean myself off from relying on taxis.